


hungry as a last bet

by soyicedcoffee



Series: femme eddie/stone butch richie [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Butch/Femme, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Stone Butch Richie Tozier, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24857683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soyicedcoffee/pseuds/soyicedcoffee
Summary: "tell me you don't" as told from richie's perspective + extra smut
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: femme eddie/stone butch richie [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798417
Comments: 23
Kudos: 132





	hungry as a last bet

**Author's Note:**

> i literally.... couldn't tell you how or why this happened. i'm gay and lonely and this is all my brain could think about until i finished writing it. it's just part one but told briefly from richie's perspective and then some really excessive strap-on smut.
> 
> 1\. warning for mild homophobia and familial issues  
> 2\. warning for this not being edited at all because im tired  
> 3\. title is from the song radio by andrea gibson and jesse thomas, an amazing wlw song/spoken word thing which i listen to periodically and just like break into hives. like emotionally.

Richie knew herself well.

For example, she knew she was gay from the time she was 12. She’d never even been on a date with a guy (with the notable exception of Jacob Barnett in 8th grade, whom she agreed to go out with because his dad worked for Six Flags and could get them free tickets).

By the time she was 14, she knew for a fact that she couldn’t pursue the kind of career her parents wanted her to - the kind they could have bragged about at dinner parties. She knew that her passion lay with art and music and film, things her parents regarded as largely useless, and as professional pursuits, unthinkable.

Knowing herself so well, it only took her knowing Eddie for a few days to realize she was absolutely fucked.

That first time she saw her, bathed in the warm café lights, dark hair cut into a preppy bob, skin all glowy and freckled … she was speechless. She’d been wearing these light wash mom jeans with clean white sneakers and a crewneck sweater – like Molly Ringwald or Jennifer Grey, the girls Richie had drooled over when she was young, watching 80s movies in her basement. And when she spoke… Well, she’d been incredibly rude, to be honest. It probably said something unflattering about Richie that it hadn’t deterred her in the slightest.

When Eddie left the café, Richie tried to decide whether she should leave things alone. She knew very little about Eddie beyond her first name and her hatred for Dr. Jenkov. But she also knew that she was friends with Bev, and she _could_ ask Bev about Eddie next time she was in. But when she’d dropped that unsubtle pickup line about cute girls getting free toppings, Eddie hadn’t responded beyond a couple of flustered syllables that didn’t add up to a full word and a look of discomfort. To be fair, it _had_ been pretty brazen of her. But Richie had been nervous as shit, and it just slipped out. Her filter was limited at the best of times.

* * *

The decision to continue hanging out with Eddie after she realized she was, in fact, straight, had been an easy yet emotionally masochistic one. Hanging out with Eddie was fun – lots of fun. But when, not ten minutes after breaking Richie’s heart by declaring herself to be only a passionate gay ally, she went back to flirting with Richie like it was her full-time job ( _your hands are so much bigger than mine, though, Rich…)_ Richie knew she wasn’t just fucked. She was monumentally, irretrievably fucked. Fucked four ways to Sunday.

When she left Eddie’s that day, she went straight to Bill’s dorm to unload her sorrows. His only response had been a frown that was bordering on sympathetic but maybe not quite there. “Richie,” he said, “you need to be more careful, dude. You lead with your heart. It’s not a bad thing, but…” He sighed. “I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” She and Bill had been best friends since kindergarten, and he knew her better than anyone else. They both knew that he was right, and they both also knew that she wouldn’t take his advice.

Richie, on some level, knew that the smart move would be to keep some distance between her and Eddie. At least for a little while. But that was a lot easier said than done. When, two days later, Eddie texted her and asked her to come over to help her with another paper, Richie _did_ consider saying no. She probably thought about it for a full twenty seconds, which _sounded_ pathetic but was actually pretty impressive, given all the factors at play (i.e. Richie being gay and dumb).

Over the next few weeks, they hung out a lot. Sometimes they would study, but more often they would get distracted playing video games, or talking, or watching movies, and they wouldn’t end up getting much of anything done.

At one point, Eddie learned that Richie had never seen her favourite movie (Pride and Prejudice) and had insisted they drop everything and watch it that very minute. She loaded up Netflix on her laptop and they sat together on the couch, so close that their thighs were touching, and Richie couldn’t avoid the smell of Eddie’s lavender shampoo. Richie focused hard on the movie, trying to ignore the heat of Eddie pressed into her side.

Mr. Darcy was confessing his love in the rain (and grievously insulting Elizabeth’s family) when Richie heard a sharp intake of breath beside her. She looked over, and she smiled when she saw that Eddie’s brown eyes were all wide and glued to the screen, and she was biting her lower lip.

“You look enthralled,” said Richie. Eddie turned to glare at her, reaching out to pause the movie.

“You’d be enthralled too if you were actually watching, dickhead,” said Eddie impatiently.

Richie laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I swear I’m watching.”

Eddie shot her a glare. “Okay, because this is a really, really good part.”

Richie nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“So you’re not gonna talk again, right? Because, like, normally I can tolerate you talking during movies, but Pride and Prejudice is an exception.”

“Mm-hmm,” Richie mumbled, miming zipping up her mouth and throwing away the key. Richie could tell from the slight twitch of Eddie’s lips that she was trying not to smile.

Five minutes passed before Eddie paused the movie again.

“Hey,” exclaimed Richie, “I didn’t say anything!” She’d never been a big fan of Jane Austen, but she’d been enjoying the movie a lot, and was more invested than she’d expected.

“I know,” said Eddie, shooting her a Look, “I was just wondering if you’d be okay with moving this to my bed.”

“Hmm?” asked Richie, eyebrows shooting up.

“I’m just really tired,” said Eddie, yawning and stretching her arms over her head to prove her point (this showed off a little strip of skin between her shirt and her jeans, and Richie looked away guiltily). “It would be nice to lie down.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” said Richie.

Were they the kind of friends who watched movies together in bed? If that’s what Eddie wanted, Richie could do that. Well, she was pretty sure she could, anyway.

“I’m gonna put on sweatpants,” said Eddie once they got to her room. It was neat and tidy like an Ikea showroom, with candles and plants tastefully arranged on the bedside table and dresser, and fairy lights wrapped around the headboard. The difference between her room and Richie's was so stark that Richie almost laughed.

“Do you want me to-“ Richie gestured at the door.

“No. Just don’t look, okay?” said Eddie as she pawed through her dresser drawers.

Richie turned away obediently, toward the wall opposite Eddie’s bed. Richie surveyed Eddie’s bulletin board, the only part of her room that wasn’t neurotically neat and organized. She had pinned up take-out menus, pages torn from magazines, old theatre tickets. Her eyes caught on a familiar drawing pinned in the corner.

“You put up my drawing,” said Richie wonderingly.

“Oh, yeah,” said Eddie, “it looks nice, right?” Richie was pretty sure she wasn’t imagining the undercurrent of shyness in Eddie’s voice. “You can, um, turn around now.”

They settled into Eddie’s double bed. It wasn’t _so_ bad _,_ really, if Richie just didn’t think about what was happening. Her arms felt awkward at her sides, so she folded her hands on her stomach, then immediately realized that that was even more awkward and moved them back. What would be most comfortable would be if she could curl her arm around Eddie’s shoulders, but did platonic bed-sharing gal pals do that? Richie suspected they didn’t.

Eddie shifted a little toward her, getting comfortable. Richie was caught between cuddling closer and putting some space between them when she felt something freezing touch her ankle.

“Holy fuck, your feet are freezing,” Richie yelped.

Eddie giggled. “Shhh,” she whispered, “watch the movie.” Richie rolled her eyes but only halfheartedly resisted when Eddie wedged her frozen toes under Richie’s warm calf.

* * *

As time went on, one fact was becoming increasingly obvious: Richie’s feelings for Eddie were only getting stronger, not petering out like she’d hoped they would.

But the thing was – and Richie wasn’t proud of this – she couldn’t crush the tiny voice in her head that told her Eddie might like her too. Yes, Eddie _had_ basically told her she was straight, and the very small amount of good judgment Richie still possessed told her to take Eddie’s word for it. But the larger part of her (the part that had no good judgment to speak of) happily ignored that conversation.

It was not lost on Richie that this situation was entirely her own fault, a fact that Bill cheerfully reminded her of when she brought it up.

“I really like her, Bill.” Bill and Richie were studying in the library on a gloomy Monday afternoon. Well, Bill was studying, anyway.

Bill sighed, scribbling something down in his notebook. “Well, I hate to say I told you so.“

Richie sighed, tilting her head back to look at the ornate ceiling of the library. “I know,” she groaned.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Bill typing diligently on his laptop and Richie with a pencil poised in her hand, staring into space.

“The thing is-” Richie started, “The thing is, it really seems like she has feelings for me, too.”

“Hmm,” Bill hummed. “The straight girl has feelings for you, another girl. How do you figure that?”

“Well, we don’t really know that she’s _straight_ straight.”

“She told you she was straight.”

“She _heavily implied_ that she’s straight,” Richie corrected. “She didn’t say, like, ‘ _oh, I’m 100% hetero’,_ you know? And she’s always touching me. Like, even when I try to put some space between us, she just moves closer. And she always drinks out of straws in this really cute way. Like, she just wraps her lips around it and then looks at me through her eyelashes-“

Bill snapped his laptop shut. “You know what I think?” he asked. “I think you’re just horny, and you seriously need to get laid. Or else I’m going to end up killing you, Richie. And I really don’t want it to come to that.”

* * *

When Richie showed up at the door of the apartment that Wednesday, Bev looked surprised.

“Oh, Richie! Eddie’s not here,” she said, a little frown on her face.

“Uh, yeah.” Richie knew perfectly well that Eddie was in class. “I actually came here to see you?” Bev narrowed her eyes, like she was trying to work through a difficult math problem in her head. Richie decided it was time to pull out the big guns. “I can smoke you out,” she said, brandishing her backpack like a bottle of wine for the host. Bev’s look of suspicion slowly grew into a grin. She stepped aside to let Richie in and led her onto the small balcony attached to the living room.

“Fuck,” said Richie around the joint in her mouth. The way the wind was blowing was making it impossible for Richie to get a light.

“Here,” said Bev. She plucked the joint from Richie’s mouth and took the lighter. She managed to light it in one try and she took a huge hit that impressed even Richie. “It’s been way too long,” she said with a delicate cough, passing the joint to Richie.

Once they had smoked it down to the filter, they filed back into the apartment and crashed in the living room. Richie closed her eyes and let her head flop back against the back of the chair. It occurred to her that she might be too stoned to ask Bev what she was planning to ask her. When she opened her eyes, Bev was staring at her from the couch with a serious expression on her face.

“What?” asked Richie. She looked around, trying to determine what social faux pas she’d committed to deserve that look.

“Why don’t you just ask me what you came here to ask me,” said Bev.

Richie considered feigning ignorance for about two seconds, but the subtle, knowing uptick in Bev’s eyebrows stopped her cold. “Ah, right,” she said, rubbing at her forehead, trying to gather her thoughts. Was Bev a psychic? “I guess I just wanted to ask what you thought about… Well,” Richie hesitated, eyes flicking up to the ceiling, “I know Eddie’s straight and everything, but – ugh, I guess I’ll just tell you – I really like her, and I was wondering if you thought I had any chance. With that, uh, whole thing.”

There was a long stretch of silence, and when Richie finally tore her eyes away from the popcorn ceiling, she saw that Bev was shaking. It took her a second to realize that she was giggling uncontrollably. “Oh my fucking God, Bev. This is serious,” said Richie incredulously, kicking weakly at her leg across the room and missing her by a good meter.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” said Bev, wiping at her eyes with her sleeves. “There’s just something about watching you two dance around each other that’s so fucking funny to me. And I could never laugh like this at Eddie, it’d piss her off so bad.” Richie nodded. She could imagine it, too. Bev finally took a deep, calming breath. “Sorry, Jesus Christ. I’m fucking stoned. But like, you should probably talk to Eddie about this. I don’t know how much insight I can give you into her _inner world_ ,” she wiggled her fingers, apparently trying to communicate something about the mystic nature of Eddie’s mind. Richie couldn’t agree more.

“I know I should talk to her, but I can’t,” Richie groaned, rubbing at her eyes.

“Why not?”

“What if she doesn’t want to be friends with me anymore? Or…” Richie sighed. “I mean, it must be pretty obvious that I have a thing for her, right?”

Bev gave her a sympathetic head tilt that said, _yeah, kind of._

“So what if she already knows, and she’s just trying to save my feelings or whatever?”

Bev shook her head. “She doesn’t know,” she said with certainty.

“What? How do you know?”

Bev thought for a second. “Let me weave you a yarn. Or spin you a tale. Or whatever.” She rubbed her hands together. “One time in first year this guy in her introductory psych class asked her to study with him. This guy… he came over all the time. They went out for dinner together. He literally… he would literally come meet her here and walk her to class, even though he lived on the other side of campus. We were all under the impression they were dating, right?”

Richie nodded.

“Well, one night she came home all upset, and we were obviously worried. But then she said,” Bev shook her head, like relaying this story pained her, “she said, _he fucking tried to kiss me! Do you think he like, likes me?_ ” Bev pitched her voice up in a pretty spot on Eddie impression, and Richie snorted. “She would never in a million years think that you have feelings for her, dude. No matter how fucking obvious you’ve been about it.”

Richie cringed. She knew she hadn’t been too stealthy about her crush, but jeez. Bev could really tell it like it is.

“But anyway, the point of all this is…” Bev trailed off, eyes focused on some point in the distance, lost in thought. Richie waited with bated breath. “The point is,” she started again after a moment of thought, pointing at Richie triumphantly, “that I can’t read her mind any better than you can.”

“Yeah,” said Richie, nodding resignedly. “I know.”

“But,” continued Bev, “I don’t think it takes a fucking rocket surgeon to see that she likes you, Rich. I mean, I’ve known her for three years, and I’ve never seen her act the way she acts around you.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” asked Bev. “I mean... I mean, do you think Eddie’s a physically affectionate person?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” said Richie. Eddie could definitely be pretty tactile, always shifting closer to Richie on the couch, touching her arm to make a point, or pushing a stray curl off of Richie’s forehead.

“Well, she’s not. Like, with anyone else. At all,” said Bev, eyes wide and imploring like she wanted Richie to catch onto something.

“Oh,” was all Richie could manage in response.

“And that’s just one example,” continued Bev. “God, when it comes to pure obliviousness, you’re each worse than the other,” she said, shaking her head. “Anyway, I need a diet coke or something. Do you want a drink?”

They ended up playing Smash Bros for the rest of the afternoon. Bev was a good opponent, and she was nearly as competitive as Richie (she claimed she had never really played much, a claim Richie found herself doubting).

When Eddie got home from class an hour later, she looked happy to see Richie and Bev hanging out, which made Richie feel a little bit less guilty about her covert mission to get information out of Bev using controlled substances.

At some point (Richie could not for the life of her remember when), Ben had cuddled up on the couch next to Bev, and Eddie chatted with them idly.

“Eds, you’re in the way of the TV,” said Bev, craning her neck to see around her. Eddie frowned and looked around, apparently at a loss for where to sit.

Richie reached out and pulled Eddie into her lap, and Eddie made a little surprised yelp. “What the fuck?”

_What the fuck indeed,_ thought Richie. Maybe she was emboldened by what Bev said, or maybe she was thinking with her lesbian stoner brain instead of her actual intelligent brain. But, despite her protest, Eddie settled back into her lap easily with a satisfied sigh.

“Am I squishing you?” asked Eddie a moment later. Richie could hear the anxiety in her voice. She moved like she was going to get up, and Richie instinctively held her tighter, pulling her in a little closer.

Richie scoffed. “You’re not too heavy,” she said. “You’re good here.” She saw Ben smile and raise their eyebrows at Bev out of the corner of her eye.

* * *

Christmas break was predictably mediocre for Richie. She had no choice but to go home to Michigan since the dorms were closed for the break. The house was quiet and empty as ever during the days when her parents were at work. She spent most of her time playing video games, conspicuously smoking weed on the freezing back porch, or lying on her bed listlessly listening to music. Communications from Eddie were few and far between – Richie knew she had tried to wheedle her way out of returning home for the holidays, but through some method Richie was unaware of (which involved a number of phone conversations of varying volumes that she tried hard not to overhear), her mother had convinced her to return to Maine.

She heard more from Bev and Ben than she heard from Eddie – they had both opted to stay at the apartment over Christmas, and as often as not their messages included pictures of the festive meals they’d cooked or cozy selfies of them together in front of the tree they’d set up in the living room. These pictures melted Richie’s heart but (and she would deny this to the end of time) also made her so envious that she often found herself turning her phone off completely after receiving them. She knew it was senseless – after all, she got the sense that Bev’s home situation was much worse than hers, and possibly even worse than Eddie’s – but she couldn’t stop that prickle of jealousy at their happy faces.

She did see Bill a couple of times. They hung out at Richie’s while her parents were at work or went to the movies with his younger brother in tow. But he was both more studious than Richie and closer with his family, so much of his break was spent with them (doing what, Richie couldn’t guess) or getting ahead on his readings for the upcoming semester. Richie hadn’t even brought her school books home, which was unfortunate because she was often bored enough that she might have actually cracked one open.

Christmas itself had been both the best and the worst. The best, because Eddie called her to wish her merry Christmas, and they’d talked for close to an hour before Eddie abruptly whispered, “Fuck, Rich, I gotta go,” and hung up before Richie could say another word. The worst because her father, upon seeing the outfit she’d chosen to wear to Christmas dinner, told her that if she didn’t want to go to join them at her grandparents’ she was under no obligation to (the underlying message being: we’d rather explain your absence to the rest of the family than explain to them why you’re not wearing a skirt). Richie stormed out of the house, drove to 7-11, and spent a half hour in the fluorescent lit parking lot drinking a big gulp sized slurpee, before driving herself to her grandparents dressed exactly how she liked.

Overall, it was a huge relief to get back to school. Richie’s underlying anxieties about Eddie (sure they’d gotten together before break, but it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that Eddie could have changed her mind about things in the two weeks they’d spent apart) were quelled when, before she’d even stepped through the door of the apartment, Eddie had jumped on her and hugged her so tightly that Richie stumbled back a few steps. “I missed you,” Eddie said, faced tucked into the side of Richie’s neck, and Richie’s heart skipped a beat.

“I missed you too,” she murmured into Eddie’s hair, smelling her lavender shampoo.

When Eddie let go and Richie got a look at her face, she frowned. Eddie looked exhausted, dark bags heavy under her glassy eyes. “Are you okay?” asked Richie.

“Yeah,” said Eddie, rubbing her eye with her fist like a kid. “It was just a long day. Travelling and everything.” Richie nodded, but the look of concern didn’t completely leave her face. When Eddie finally opened her eyes fully and got a good look at Richie, she cocked her head. “You got a haircut,” she said.

Richie _had_ in fact gotten a haircut when she was home, and her normally chaotic curls were shorn on the sides and back, leaving only the top a bit longer and falling over her forehead. It hadn’t completely been a reaction to her dad being a dickhead, but it hadn’t _not_ been a reaction to that, either. “Do you like it?” she asked anxiously, self-consciously patting the top of her head. From the amount that Eddie touched her hair, she suspected that she liked her longer curls, and she was nervous for her reaction.

Eddie reached up and ran her fingertips through the buzzed hair on the sides of Richie’s head, to the back of her scalp. Richie leaned into her fingers minutely – she was momentarily taken aback by how much she’d missed Eddie’s touch.

“Yeah,” said Eddie, smiling. “You look really fucking handsome.”

Richie felt something warm and unidentifiable bloom in her chest at that.

Bev suggested Richie stay and they all watch a movie, and Richie agreed. She’d been alone enough in the last two weeks, and it was nice being back in the hustle and bustle of the apartment, especially with Bev and Ben’s small Christmas tree glowing in the corner. They ended up watching Back to the Future, Mike, Ben, and Bev piled on the couch with the cat stretched across them and Richie and Eddie on the big chair. As far as Richie was concerned, it was heaven – having Eddie cuddled on her lap, watching one of her favourite movies with her friends. She could feel the stress she’d been holding onto from her Christmas break melting away.

Marty McFly had barely been in 1955 for 10 minutes when Richie realized Eddie had passed out, softly snoring with her head leaned on Richie’s shoulder. She decided to let her sleep and tried not to make too much noise (even at her favourite parts).

“Hey, Eds,” Richie said when the credits rolled. When Eddie didn’t stir, she tried again. “Eddie Spaghetti,” she said softly, jostling her a little.

Eddie finally cracked her eyes open. She looked at the screen, and then turned on Richie. “Did I miss the movie?”

“Yeah,” said Richie. “You were tired, babe.”

“No,” said Eddie. “It’s because you were rubbing my back. You made me fall asleep,” she accused, narrowing her eyes.

Richie couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Are you a little bit grumpy?”

Eddie scowled in a way that would have scared the hell out of Richie a month ago. “I’m going to bed,” she said. She stood up and stalked off to her bedroom, leaving Richie snickering and Bev rolling her eyes in the living room.

Not a minute later, Eddie’s door creaked open again. “Are you coming, Richie?” she said.

“Yup!” Richie jumped up from the chair. “Night, guys!”

They got ready for bed in silence, the lamp on Eddie’s bedside table casting a soft glow over the room. Eddie changed into an oversized t-shirt and underwear (when Richie first saw what Eddie wore to bed, she’d almost had an aneurysm because, _fuck,_ was she ever cute. The effect hadn’t diminished with time.) They curled up together in Eddie’s double bed, and Eddie rested her head on Richie’s chest.

“I’m sorry for being a bitch,” she said.

Richie laughed. “You’re fine,” she said. “Luckily, I like your rude little ass.”

Eddie looked up at her, and she could just see the outline of a frown on her face in the dark of her bedroom. “Fuck off,” she said. “It’s just…” she hesitated. “Being at home was really hard. My mom- I don’t know if she’s gotten worse, or if I’ve just gotten used to things here being so good that she seemed a lot worse. She’s so isolated, all alone in that house. I can’t help but feel guilty about being all the way out here.”

Richie hummed in acknowledgment, waiting for Eddie to continue. “I guess I’m tired. Not from travelling, just everything.”

“You know,” said Richie, “you’re not responsible for your mom.” Eddie was silent. “You’re her kid. Not the other way around.”

Eddie sighed. “I know,” she said quietly. “How was your break?”

Richie sighed. “Pretty quiet. My parents worked a lot.” She recounted what happened on Christmas with her dad, and Eddie looked up at her with wide eyes.

“Wow,” she said. “That was brave, Rich. I could never do that.”

Richie shrugged. “When my dad talks like that, he’s mostly blowing smoke, you know? I doubt he actually gives much of a fuck either way.”

It felt like less than a minute before Eddie was softly snoring, and it didn’t take long for Richie to follow.

* * *

A couple of weeks later, classes were back in full swing. Eddie and Richie sat at the kitchen table on a Friday morning before classes, Richie eating a bowl of fruit loops and Eddie spooning a grapefruit into her mouth and drinking a mug of tea ( _what are you eating?_ Richie had frowned. _Something healthy,_ said Eddie pointedly, looking at Richie’s admittedly large bowl of sugar cereal.) Richie had been staying over at the apartment a lot lately, enough that she was starting to feel guilty about it. She’d taken to buying groceries and cooking dinner for everyone (which was, in reality, self-serving. She liked cooking and hadn’t had access to a proper kitchen since high school.)

Just as Richie was taking a big bite of cereal, Eddie said, “Do you have a strap-on?”, somehow in the exact same tone one would use to say “pass the salt” or “do you have the time?”

Richie’s coffee went down the wrong pipe, and she coughed. “I’m sorry?”

“I was just wondering,” said Eddie, taking another casual bite of her grapefruit.

“Uh, yeah, I do,” said Richie. It seemed wrong that Eddie was casually eating breakfast while Richie felt like her brain was melting out her ears.

“Hmm,” said Eddie thoughtfully. She looked up at Richie through her eyelashes, mouth closed around her spoon.

When they’d first gotten together, Eddie had been sweet and shy about sex. She was a fast learner, though, and every time they fucked she grew progressively more confident. And, with Eddie, more confidence mostly made her more demanding, brattier, and bolder.

Not that Richie was complaining. At all. A bold, bratty Eddie who knew what she wanted and could ask for it? What was there to complain about? Richie loved to give Eddie what she wanted.

“Do you want me to-” Richie stuttered out. “Eds, I’ll run to my dorm and get it right now. I can be there and back in, like, ten minutes.”

Eddie glanced at her little gold watch, then at Richie with a disapprovingly cocked eyebrow. “Don’t you have class in fifteen minutes?” she asked. “And anyway, I don’t think that would be humanly possible. Your dorm is at least ten minutes away.”

“I honestly couldn’t give less of a fuck about class,” said Richie honestly. When she tried to remember what class she had next, or where it was held, nothing came to mind.

Eddie took a final sip of her tea and stood up. She crossed the room and kissed Richie on the forehead, leaving a waxy, strawberry flavoured mark from her chapstick. “I have to go to class, but I’ll see you tonight?” called Eddie on her way out of the kitchen.

Richie reached out just before Eddie was out of her reach and caught her by the hip, pulling her back to stand between Richie’s spread legs. They were playing a game, and the object was to tease, to turn the other person on and leave them hanging. Eddie was amazing at it – it didn’t take long for her to learn exactly what she had to say and do to get under Richie’s skin (in truth, Eddie being Eddie was more than enough on its own) – and Richie was content to let her win nine out of ten times. That tenth round, though; Richie ensured it always went to her.

“You wanna see me tonight?” asked Richie. Eddie nodded, her lower lip caught between her teeth. When Richie put her hand on the back of Eddie’s neck, Eddie moved easily, letting Richie pull her down and kiss her hard on the mouth. When they broke apart, Eddie was breathing a little harder, lips parted and dark eyes intent on Richie’s face. “Okay,” said Richie, kissing Eddie on the cheek. “Tonight.”

* * *

Richie had class all day and then worked that evening. By the time Richie burst through the front door of Eddie’s apartment, it was almost nine o’clock. “Honey, I’m hooooome,” she sang, swinging the door shut behind her.

“In here,” called Bev’s voice from the kitchen. She followed the voice and found Eddie and Bev sitting at the kitchen table, Bev hunched over a book, highlighter in hand, and Eddie glaring characteristically at her laptop screen.

“Studying?” asked Richie, “On a Friday night?”

Eddie flicked her eyes up for a second, making Richie the recipient of her glare instead of whatever was apparently vexing her on her computer. “Maybe you should try it sometime. Don’t you have a paper due Monday?”

Richie shrugged and opened the refrigerator, digging through it to find a snack. In fact, she had two papers due on Monday and a presentation on Wednesday. “That’s a problem for Sunday Richie. Woe be unto her.” She found a pot of yogurt at the back of the fridge and glanced at the best before date, shrugging, before tearing off the lid and grabbing a spoon from the drawer. She leaned back against the fridge and started eating her yogurt. “Besides, I have more important things to do.” Richie caught Eddie’s eye behind Bev’s back and winked. Eddie rolled her eyes, but Richie didn’t miss how her cheeks went adorably pink.

“Richie, you know I love you, right?” said Bev. She didn’t wait for Richie’s response to continue. “But if you’re going to be here, I really, _really_ need you to be quiet,” she said, pressing her hands together. “I have an assignment due at midnight, and if you distract me there is no way I’m finishing in time.” Eddie snorted at this, apparently enjoying seeing Richie being told off.

Appropriately chastised, Richie sat down at the table with Bev and Eddie and pulled out her laptop. She opened the guidelines for her first paper due Monday, saw the expected word count, and immediately closed it again. Too depressing for a Friday night. She was scrolling listlessly through the next assignment when she felt something touch her foot under the table, and she nearly jumped in surprise. She flicked her eyes up at Eddie over her laptop, but Eddie’s face betrayed nothing, other than the slight, concentrated furrow of her brow as she typed.

Richie felt it again, and she realized it was Eddie’s socked foot curling around her ankle and up her calf. Richie coughed. Eddie still didn’t look up, but Richie could see the beginning of a smirk on her face. Richie opened iMessage.

Richie: what are you doing?  
  


Eddie: ??

Richie: baby

Richie: you’re killing me

Eddie: idk what you’re talking about?

Richie: let’s go to your room

Across the table, Eddie swallowed.

Eddie: I’m studying.

Richie: you know I’ve been thinking about you all day?

Suddenly, Eddie stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “I’m tired.”

“It’s getting late,” Richie agreed.

“It’s 9:30,” said Bev, not looking up from her book.

“Exactly,” said Richie, already shoving her laptop back into her backpack. “We should probably head to bed.”

“Will you be okay finishing your assignment, Bev?” asked Eddie.

“Will I be okay to finish my assignment without the two of you playing footsie under the table and making eyes at each other? Yeah, I think I’ll live,” said Bev, blunt as ever.

Richie winced, but Eddie just giggled guiltily. She was obviously less afraid of Bev than Richie was.

* * *

When they got to her room, Eddie pushed Richie back against the door and kissed her jaw, then her throat. Richie dropped her backpack on the floor.

“You’re a fucking tease,” said Richie, running her fingers through Eddie’s hair. She felt Eddie smirk against her neck.

“Do you have it?” asked Eddie.

“Have what?”

Eddie nipped hard at the delicate skin of Richie’s throat. “Ow,” said Richie.

“You know,” whined Eddie. “The strap-on, Rich.”

“Of course I do,” said Richie. “When I said I’ve been thinking about you all day, what did you think I was talking about?” She cradled Eddie’s jaw in her palm and tilted her face up. Richie could see Eddie’s eyes darting between her eyes and her mouth.

Richie ran her thumb over Eddie’s bottom lip and then leaned down and kissed her, deep and slow. “Do you want me to fuck you, Eds?” Richie asked. She felt Eddie shiver against her.

“Obviously,” said Eddie, in an impatient tone that was betrayed by the breathiness of her voice.

They made out for a while, slowly undressing each other. Richie popped the button on Eddie’s jeans and slid her fly down, moving slowly and deliberately. She knelt to pull Eddie’s jeans all the way off, her hands lingering on the soft skin of Eddie’s hips and thighs.

“I always love this part,” Richie murmured, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s stomach, and another to her hip. “Undressing you,” she clarified when Eddie raised her eyebrows in question. She rested her hands on the swell of Eddie’s hips, the curve of her ass. “It’s like… god, Eddie, it’s like unwrapping the best Christmas present ever,” she said. “A Christmas present I get to fuck,” she added with a wink.

“Trashmouth,” Eddie chastised, blushing, “shut up.” She grabbed Richie’s hands off her hips and held them tightly in her own, a gesture halfway between annoyed and affectionate.

“You don’t want me to tell you how gorgeous you are?” asked Richie, looking up at her. “How much you turn me on?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said quietly, looking away. “It’s just… embarrassing.” She had this sweet, vulnerable look on her face, and Richie had to stand up and kiss her.

“I wish I could make you see how fucking hot you are,” said Richie, “I mean, how you make me feel. How much I want all of this…” she trailed off in a frustrated growl, squeezing lightly at Eddie’s hips, and Eddie groaned, rolling her eyes.

“You’re being really gay right now, Rich,” she said as she started undoing the buttons of Richie’s shirt. “Like, off the charts. You need to tone it down.”

“Go get on the bed?” asked Richie once they were both undressed to their underwear, and Eddie acquiesced, sitting back on her bed and bouncing a little on the mattress.

As Richie took the strap-on out of her backpack and put it on, Eddie watched her from the bed, cross-legged and intent. Richie was generally a pretty confident person, but Eddie’s dark eyes on her, watching her awkwardly step into the harness, made her feel a prickle of self-consciousness. She tried not to think about her knobby knees, or her skinny arms, or the acne that dotted her chest and back.

“Are you expecting a show?” asked Richie, trying to deflect her momentary discomfort. “Because I can give you a show.” Before Eddie could respond, she started gyrating her hips, biting her lip.

“Oh my God,” Eddie laughed, covering her eyes with her hands as Richie sang _bow chicka wow wow_ in the background. “I hope you know that you’re an idiot.”

Richie smirked, not all that put out. She was beginning to suspect that calling people idiots was Eddie’s secret love language. “All right, Eds, feast your eyes,” Richie declared as she finished tightening the harness, brow furrowed in concentration. “You may want to take a picture, since it’ll last longer and all.” When Eddie didn’t say anything, Richie continued. “Looks pretty goofy, huh?” she asked, chuckling. She reached up and adjusted the strap of her bra, finally chancing a glance at Eddie.

Eddie stared at her mutely from the bed, brown eyes wide and lip caught between her teeth. “Not really,” said Eddie, shaking her head a little. A small, unruly piece of her bangs stuck up away from her head, and her cheeks seemed to be stained a permanent shade of rosy pink. “Not at all.”

“Oh,” said Richie. “Really?”

Eddie nodded, some soft, perceptive look in her eyes, like she could see right through Richie’s bravado and she wasn’t buying it for a second. “Yeah. You look really gorgeous, Rich,” she said. “You always do.” Eddie was usually calling Richie an idiot or telling her to fuck off, and the rareness of the adoration in her voice made it all the sweeter.

“Oh,” said Richie again, cheeks flaming.

Eddie reached out across her small bedroom and grabbed Richie’s hand, pulling her toward the bed, and Richie stumbled forward onto the bed, on her knees in front of her. Eddie leaned up and kissed her on the lips, in this soft and patient way that Richie wouldn’t describe as loving but couldn’t describe as anything else, either. Richie couldn’t stop a small, vulnerable noise from rising in her throat.

It wasn’t long before Eddie’s kisses became hungrier, and Richie happily let Eddie set the pace. She felt Eddie’s small hands threading through her curls, and the slight tug of her fingers made Richie lean in more, until Eddie uncrossed her legs and let Richie nestle between them.

Eddie pulled away, breathing heavily. She reached back and undid her bra, throwing it to the floor somewhere over Richie’s shoulder, while Richie watched, entranced by Eddie’s half-lidded brown eyes.

“I thought it would be like… purple or something,” said Eddie, and it took Richie a second to realize that she was talking about the dildo, running a chubby finger down its length. It was thick and slightly curved, and the same pale colour as Richie’s skin.

“Would you prefer purple?” asked Richie, half teasing. “Because we can get purple. Or pink, or green, or whatever you want. Like, chartreuse. Or vanta black.” Eddie shook her head.

“No,” she said. “I was just wondering… is it, um, a thing for you?” Richie looked at her blankly. “I mean, that it looks realistic. Like it could be yours.”

“Oh,” said Richie, grasping Eddie’s meaning. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Eddie hummed thoughtfully. “So if I said-“ she shifted, leaning in close. “Fuck, Rich, you’re so big,” she said breathily, lips brushing Richie’s earlobe. She leaned back again, eyes on Richie’s face. “Would that turn you on?”

Richie blinked for a second. She wasn’t sure if she was turned on or if her brain had somehow just completely short circuited. “Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie,” she said. The ghost of a smirk graced Eddie’s face. “Yeah. Yes. It does,” she said, kissing her hard on the mouth. She trailed her mouth down Eddie’s chest and started sucking a hickey into the smooth skin of Eddie’s breast, and she softly stroked her clit through her underwear, the stimulation making Eddie shudder against her.

“Richie,” said Eddie, getting her attention. Richie looked up at her, pulling her mouth off her chest. The bite had grown into a darkened purple mark, and the sight of it gave Richie a deep satisfaction she couldn’t name. “Can I um,” Eddie stalled, sighing when Richie’s teeth closed lightly on her nipple. “Can I suck you off?”

“Wha-“ said Richie, her brain not caught up with her mouth. She swallowed. “You mean, like…” She gestured to the dildo, and Eddie gave a little nod.

“Yeah. Sorry, is that like, a really weird thing to ask?”

“Fuck, no,” Richie said, quick and emphatic. “Not at all, baby.” She ran her hand through Eddie’s hair, from the crown of her head to the nape of her neck, and Eddie was all malleable under her grasp, tilting her head back when Richie’s fingers caught in a knot. She watched, transfixed, as Eddie knelt on the floor beside the bed, her eyes never leaving Richie’s.

“You wanna suck my cock, Eds?” asked Richie. She tried for teasing, but her voice came out hoarse and strangled. The image of Eddie kneeling before her was driving her wild, and she could feel all the blood in her body rushing away from her brain. She scooched to the edge of the bed, and she could only watch, speechless, as Eddie licked a delicate stripe up the underside of the dildo.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like that.” Well, not _completely_ speechless. It was Richie, after all, and her brain to mouth filter had been seriously compromised by the sight of Eddie on her knees, mouth open and eager, pink tongue curling around the tip. “Are you gonna get it nice and wet for me?”

Eddie exhaled sharply through her nose and complied, taking the dildo into her mouth, her hand sliding up Richie’s thigh. This was something Richie had never really thought about, but in practice it was almost unimaginably erotic, and she was breathing heavily, as if she actually was getting her dick sucked. And the fact that Eddie had _asked_ to do it.

“It’s like your mouth was made for this. For sucking me off,” said Richie, as Eddie slid off and then down all the way, breathing carefully through her nose. Richie was careful not to move, except to reach down and touch Eddie’s face, stroking her thumb across her cheekbone. When Eddie pulled off, a trail of saliva momentarily stretched between her lip and the dildo, which maybe should have been gross, but was really just sexy in a filthy way that made Richie feel hot all over.

Eddie stood up and climbed onto Richie’s lap, knees straddling one of her thighs. Richie nuzzled her face into Eddie’s neck, inhaling and appreciating the sweet, Eddie-ish smell she’d learned to love so much in the time they’d been together, all lavender and vanilla and sweat. Being close to Eddie like this, the smell and the feel of her in Richie’s arms, always made her feel drowsy and a little bit drugged, making it almost impossible for her to get out of bed, even for important things like school and food.

Eddie thrusted a little, pressing down against Richie’s thigh, and when Richie felt how wet she was, she let out a helpless groan. “You’re wet.”

“You make me wet,” Eddie replied. Richie let her thrust against her thigh again and again, building momentum until she was panting. She kissed Eddie’s neck, gentle and rough in turn, until Eddie’s throat was peppered with darkening hickies that she was definitely going to be mad about in the morning.

“Richie,” said Eddie, and Richie detached herself from Eddie’s neck and looked up at her. Eddie reached up and touched Richie’s face wonderingly – tracing her cheekbone, her jaw, her eyebrow. “Richie, I really want you to fuck me right now,” Eddie breathed.

“Yeah, me too,” said Richie. “Do you want to ride me?” asked Richie, because Eddie was already on her lap and that sounded fucking sexy, but Eddie shook her head.

“Could we maybe just…” Eddie bit her lip. “Um, on my back?”

“Yeah,” said Richie eagerly. “Yes, whatever you want, baby,” she said, meaning it more than she could own to.

Eddie climbed off her lap and Richie stood up and went to her backpack in the corner. “Where are you going?” asked Eddie, and Richie could hear the frown in her voice.

“One sec,” said Richie. She pulled a small bottle of lube out of her backpack and returned to the bed. Eddie was lying back on the bed, one knee bent, all golden and sweet in the low light of her bedroom. “You look like a fucking… like a fucking Greek goddess right now, Eds.”

Eddie rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you just come over here and fuck me, dumbass?” she said, and Richie readily complied, getting back on the bed between Eddie’s legs. She looked at the small bottle in Richie’s hand suspiciously. Richie poured a dollop of lube into her palm. “I’m already wet, Rich,” said Eddie, spreading her legs a little more, revealing her glistening slit and the wetness sticking to her inner thighs. Richie breathed in sharply, something close to a gasp.

“I know you are,” said Richie as she rubbed the lube on the dildo. Some dripped onto Eddie’s bedsheet, but she didn’t appear to notice. She was focused on the movement of Richie’s hand. “But it’ll be better with this, Eds, I promise.”

When Richie finally slid into Eddie, slow and careful, Eddie let out a loud noise, somewhere between a cry and a moan, and Richie reached up and covered her mouth with her palm. “You sound amazing, baby girl, but you have to be quiet. Everyone’s home,” said Richie, and Eddie nodded, biting playfully at the palm of Richie’s hand.

Richie fucked into her, slow and deep, as Eddie sighed and whimpered. She stroked up and down Eddie’s thick thighs, maneuvering one of her legs closer to her chest so she could get a better angle and fuck her deeper.

“God, please move faster,” said Eddie, frustrated.

Richie smirked. She loved when Eddie was demanding and bratty, when she took what she wanted without hesitation, but she also lived for the moment – usually when Eddie was too turned on to think clearly – that she would roll over and submit, needy and sweet as a kitten and desperate for Richie to take control; when her demanding turned to asking, then, eventually, to pleading. Richie stubbornly kept up the slow pace. “You’re being such a good, patient girl for me,” she murmured. “Just let me be in control right now.”

Richie must have hit a good angle, because Eddie gasped, scrabbling at the bed sheets. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” asked Richie. “Let me take care of you?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, just- please, Rich, God,” she said, nearly incoherent. She tilted her head up a little, and Richie got the right idea, leaning in to kiss her. Eddie gave as good as she got, stroking her tongue against Richie’s and drawing her bottom lip into her mouth with a sharp bite. She groaned and silently begged for more, faster, harder, her heel digging into the back of Richie’s thigh and her neat little nails scratching hard down her back. Richie knew that tomorrow her back would be covered in red lines, evidence of having Eddie here like this, and how desperate she could make her.

“You’re so goddamn gorgeous,” said Richie, kissing her on the mouth and then lightly on the cheek. Eddie reached her hand between them and rubbed her clit as Richie finally started to pick up the pace, a slowly but steadily increasing rhythm that was making Eddie moan on every thrust. Richie watched with rapt attention as Eddie rubbed herself off, slow and then fast and then slow again, her hand moving in little urgent circles. Richie imitated Eddie’s patterns, alternating fucking her fast and slow, until a slight sheen of sweat had developed on Eddie’s chest and forehead, and she was moving her hips to meet Richie’s movements.

“Fuck,” Eddie cursed quietly, eyes closed and brow furrowed in apparent concentration. “Just keep doing that.” Richie thrusted shallowly again, hitting a spot that made Eddie gasp and dig the nails of her free hand into Richie’s shoulder.

“Yeah? You like that?” asked Richie, snapping her hips forward. “You like me fucking you with my big cock?” She knew she was running her mouth, and it was testament to how far gone Eddie was that she didn’t roll her eyes or even giggle at Richie’s obnoxious dirty talk.

Eddie caught Richie’s gaze and held it, eyes dark and deep enough for Richie to get lost in. The eye contact was disarmingly intimate, and something about it made Richie’s heart buzz around in her chest like a hummingbird.

“Richie, I’m gonna come,” she groaned, biting her lip.

“Yeah?” Richie was so turned on she was practically dizzy with it, and the overwhelming intimacy between them left her, for once, at a loss for what to say.

“Mm-hmm,” Eddie nodded. Her hand where she was touching herself moved at a frantic pace, and in seconds she was shaking apart beneath Richie, throwing her free hand over her mouth to stifle her loud moan. Richie felt Eddie’s toes curling against her back, and the muscles in her legs contracted, clamping hard against Richie’s hips and preventing her from moving.

“Fuck,” Eddie cursed, long and drawn out, going boneless as Richie carefully slipped the dildo out of her. Richie hurriedly undid the harness and threw it somewhere in the vicinity of her backpack before flopping back down beside Eddie on the bed.

Eddie raised her forearm to cover her eyes. They lied like that for a few minutes, quiet and tired. “Jesus H.,” Eddie said eventually, shaking her head. “I have never been fucked like that.”

Richie smirked. “You better not talk like that, Eds, or else I’m gonna get a big head.”

“If I’d thought your head could get any bigger, I wouldn’t have said anything,” said Eddie. “I assumed we’d reached maximum capacity.” Eddie glanced at her, teasingly reproachful.

“No, absolutely not.” Richie leaned in and planted a kiss on Eddie’s jaw. “If you keep this up, my head’s gonna get so big that you’re going to have to come everywhere with me and wheel it around beside us on a skateboard.”

“I’ll do it, but I won’t be happy about it,” said Eddie, turning onto her side to face Richie.

“You’d do that for me?” asked Richie, grinning.

“I would,” said Eddie earnestly, and the sweet, serious look on her face made Richie lean in and kiss her, hand cupping her jaw. Eddie kissed her back and shifted closer to her, so her breasts were pressed up against Richie’s chest, and she hooked her thigh over Richie’s hip. They made out as heavily as they had before they’d fucked, and Richie took a moment to feel grateful for Eddie’s seemingly insatiable libido.

Richie felt Eddie take her hand and guide it between them, down to her cunt. When Richie felt how wet she was, from the leftover lube and her own slick, she groaned and stroked her obligingly, easily slipping two fingers into Eddie’s opening. “You want me to make you come again?” she whispered against Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie squirmed against her. “If you want me to, I want you to ask me for it.” Richie withdrew her fingers, and Eddie whined.

“Please, Richie,” she said, working the full force of her bambi eyes on her girlfriend. “Fuck me with your fingers. Get me off again. Please.”

Richie liked to tease, but she wasn’t made of stone. She slipped her fingers back into Eddie, curling her fingers in her wet heat and making her gasp.

“I really really like you, Richie,” said Eddie, and Richie laughed, surprised and happy.

“I really really like you too, Eddie,” she said as she pumped her fingers in and out. She brushed Eddie’s clit lightly with her thumb, careful not to overstimulate her.

“I love feeling you inside me like this,” said Eddie. Orgasms always made Eddie all loose and talkative, and to Richie’s glee she often said things that she normally wouldn’t. “It’s so fucking hot, Richie. _Richie_ ,” Eddie repeated her name with a bitten off groan, and Richie felt a strong pull of arousal deep in her stomach.

“I know, baby. It’s hot for me too,” said Richie. They kissed again, lazy and slow and messy, and it felt like no time at all before Eddie was clenching around Richie’s fingers and muffling the sounds of her orgasm against Richie’s neck.

Richie covertly wiped her fingers on the sheets while Eddie’s face was still buried in her neck. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and Richie knew that Eddie would change the sheets first thing in the morning, anyway.

“We should shower,” said Eddie sleepily, as Richie pulled her duvet over them both.

“We can shower in the morning,” said Richie, lying on her back and letting Eddie rest her head on her chest. Eddie was tired or comfortable enough that she didn’t argue beyond a quiet huff.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! comments and kudos literally make my day :0)


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